Exactly Different Similarities
by Ako si Elyana
Summary: Severus thought he loved Lily Evans, but what if it wasn't really her? What if it was actually Hermione? The castle won't let Albus die, but can't keep him fully alive. SSHG and others. AU since ootp.


**A/N- Hello! This is my first Sev/Mione fic. I played with so many ideas, but none of them really come to fruition. But I've finally decided to settle down and get cracking! It's not DH compliant, and probably isn't HBP compliant. Let's just say its AU since I haven't read the books for years and my knowledge of what's cannon and fanfiction is an impressive jumble of nonesense. :D Please read and hopefully enjoy!**

**Disclaimer- Potterverse belongs exclusively to JK Rowlings!**

**CHAPTER ONE  
~****The Beginnings of a Plan**

A curious old man tittered upon the roof of a great castle. There was twinkle in his eye though his hair was pure white. A mischievous smile spread across his face as he surveyed the castle grounds. Stroking his long snowy beard, he mused on his master plan to meddle in the lives of students and teachers. The new school year would be ideal for his dastardly plans.

He watched the sweet afternoon breeze sending a lone green leaf soaring through the auburn sky. Behind him there was a soft pop and there stood an exact replica of himself. The one difference was in their apparel.

"Yes?" asked the first man, still gazing out into the distance. He wasn't particularly startled at seeing himself. It had actually become a common experience. It just goes to show how quickly humans can adapt to the strangest and most impossible situations if they happen frequently enough.

"I just thought I'd like me to know that I'm a genius!" With a jubilant wink at the first man's back, the second one disappeared in a second pop.

The man waited tensed, as if for another one apparition to manifest, but when there was nothing after a few minutes, he relaxed once more.

Pop, it was another copy in yet different attire. "I'm REALLY a genius!" Pop.

The old man shook his head, amused. He tried to disregard the whole escapade knowing that sooner or later it would sort itself out. After a self deprecating sigh, he leaned back, arms crossed behind his head and smirked. If only he wasn't so damned curious.

Ah well… he just had to remember that it was all just a question about time.

And so he began.

Still chuckling at his own dry wit he concentrated and found himself in a small, cozy room. The fireplace was lit, candles burned a the perimeter of the room, and a lone figure hunched over a desk was rifling through a book.

A closer inspection revealed the book to be a photo album. Some tears had fallen on the picture at the left. It was one of him and a woman- the same woman that now sat at the desk. His smile was gentle and had lost its frolicsome tint.

Stepping forward he stretched an arm towards the woman, revealing himself.

"Minerva," he whispered softly.

She jumped in surprise, glancing up and staring at him dumbfounded.

"…A-A-Albus?" She gasped. "I must be hallucinating!"

He didn't reply, his eyes raged with sorrow. It was his goddamn weakness that he allowed her to know about him. He just couldn't bear to have her in the dark for any longer and especially not while his plan was put into action.

Drawing nearer, he raised his hand to her face as if to stroke it. She sat rigid and transfixed, and he knew well that she was caught up in an inner battle to doubt or to believe.

"Minerva," he said again. His voice was laced with the tenderness only reserved for her.

She teetered between incredulity, hand fisted on her wand and the desperate need to cling tightly to any chance- any hope that he- her heart- was still alive.

"Albus, i-is that really you? H-how - how…" she trailed off. The familiar lump swelled in her throat- her emotions raged uncontrollably. It had been many, many decades since she was a teenager, but she still remembered this horrid rollercoaster of warring emotions.

He had taken her into his arms. She slammed her eyes shut to ward against the maelstrom of tears that would ensue if…

If he was really alive.

And was he? No, he was just an extension of Hogwarts. The ancient hag- well, witch- seeing he was still very much needed gave him a semblance of life as well as some special attributes. He had the ability to manifest in physical, spiritual and any state in-between. That certainly pleased his meddling hobbies, but overall, he wished to simply fall into the oblivion of death where he could rest from all the hardships of life. Then again, he wouldn't have his sweet Minerva.

She was crying into his shoulder. It softened his heart immediately, not that it was at all hard in the first place. But he forgot his troubles, seeing hers and how much of a toll his death had taken. Minerva McGonagall rarely cried.

"Why didn't you come sooner? Why did you leave me? Why, Albus, why did this have to happen?" were a few of the muffled sobs from the depths of tangible robes. "Why didn't you tell me that you weren't dead?" she quavered. "I needed you…"

He rocked her back and forth soothing her as he had on several occasions throughout their 26 years of married life. Yet the truth t he inevitably had to tell her weighed heavy on his heart.

When she had quieted down somewhat, he looked down seriously into the face of his wife- his love. Rather, the widow that was_ once_ his wife.

A mode of communication through their eyes was enough. His unbearable sadness caused her to hang her head.

"I guess it was too much to ask that you were really alive," Her soft susurration showed her disappointed capitulation, "It's the castle, isn't it?"

"Yes," a mixture of amusement and bitterness spilling into that one word response. Now that Minerva was headmistress, many of the castle's secrets were free for her perusal. Many of his own secrets were now known to her. He partially missed that position of minimal power instead of this stronger hold the castle had on him.

"She made me come…" Minerva sensed his unwillingness and the pain it caused him to show himself to her in this state.

"Perhaps it knows that the headmistress can't cope without you," she teased, trying to lighten the stormy mood that played across his forehead.

"Perhaps, indeed" he mused, a little playfulness rentering the atmosphere.

Abruptly, a stern expression crossed Minerva's face.

"Albus, don't you think that it would have saved a lot of bother if you came to me even a little bit earlier?" She demanded.

"A man has to have some time to scrounge up enough courage to face the kraken, eh?" he tweaked her nose. A sliver of a smile encroached upon her face, but the dour expression did not altogether disappear.

"Listen to me young man-" he interrupted scoffing at her choice of words. she scowled even further at the interruption, "Would you rather me say old man?" she glowered.

He chuckled, "I would actually," he patted her cheek, "you pretend you're all tough for the little children, but your dear old husband knows that inside you're nothing but mush." At this, he poked her side, tickling her. She slapped his hand away, openly smiling.

"You are an insufferable old man, Albus Percival Wulfric Dumbledore!" She harrumphed, "Even when you're only _half_ alive."

Albus chortled, but the way she said, 'half alive' instead of 'half dead' caused him to see how differently they treated what the castle had given to him. That was his Minerva… always seeing the best. He missed that. Without her the world was so much darker. They sat in a companionable hush.

"Well," Albus inquired, "Might as well start on your list of questions. I might even be able to answer a few."

Minerva got up, and sat in a loveseat by the fire. She patted the place beside her and Albus obligingly sat. Having a wife meant giving in to her everyday commands and leading in the important decisions.

Another silence passed this one contemplative. She stared into the flickering flames of the fire.

Minerva broke the silence first- as was customary, "What exactly would you be then, a ghost?"

"No, no. Well, in a way I could be, I suppose. I can become substantial, insubstantial, invisible and combinations of each state. I can make myself in basically any form I desire. I can change my clothes with a simple thought and I needent eat or drink. I do need to rest; however, I can go without it for about a week."

"When you say any form, could you change yourself into say, something that looks like me?"

"No, I can change my hair or skin and their color, but not the shape."

"Could you change your hair to bright pink?" She asked impulsively. That had always been her favorite color.

"Like I'd want to!" he exclaimed horrified.

She smirked, "Please, Albus?" She took his hand and gave him a pleading look.

He sighed, resigned. Once Minerva got one of those silly ideas in her head, she'd never stop till you did whatever it was.

"It's not like you haven't ever been pink before!"

He had almost forgot about that instance back in their first year of marriage… a potion backfired and he had to walk around with pink skin, pink eyes, and pink hair all day. He could feel his manliness being robbed from him. Next she would make him wear dresses… again.

He shuddered and slumped a little. A man of his age and of his stature, turning his hair pink for the mere amusement of his wife? Pathetic.

His pearly white beard slowly reverted to a bright neon pink, and so did his face.

Minerva held her hand to her mouth in a choked laugh, "Albus, I can't believe you just-"

The hair returned to its usual white, but the face that accompanied it did not.

Minerva, the strict, intimidating professor to which all students respected convulsed on the sofa in high pitched giggles.

When tranquility- and dare he say- some sanity returned, Minerva was sitting primly at Albus's side. She asked, "What's the big plan this year, Al?" Minerva always had at least an idea of all his boyish intentions.

Albus hmm-ed and sat still for a while. Suddenly an image from the rooftop appeared in his mind's eye. A smile slowly evolved and he beamed when at last he fit the last piece into this years plan. Thinking back to his future selves, he realized this must be the plan that would reveal that he was in all regards a genius!

He whispered in Minerva's ear. She gasped completely mortified, "Albus!".

Ooh. He was going to enjoy this year!

**A/N: *rubs hands together grinning evilly* All of you must be confused, but not to worry, if you're good and review, it'll all be explained by the last chapter… months and months from now. :D Mwhahaha. My grammar is horrible, so please hold off the comments about it until I find a beta! …Of course, if one of you adorable cupcakes would like to be… it'd be most appreciated!!**


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